


Chip Off the Old Block

by skargasm



Series: Parental Units [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike's not sure he would describe it as the joys of parenthood.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chip Off the Old Block

”We’re going to have to do something. He needs to cultivate a better class of friend.”

“Excuse me? You been talking to Red again love?” Spike shrugged out of his duster and threw it onto the back of the sofa. He knew who Xander was talking about but had hoped that tonight parental responsibilities could be laid to one side. “Love, he’s not a plant and you’re not a horticulturist. Besides, you couldn’t even cultivate that bloody spider plant and those things grow best when you ignore them!”

“Ha ha! Look, the guys he hangs around with—they’re leading him astray.”

“Er, Xander, what exactly are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Heath and the little gang of delinquents he calls friends! He’s been messing about with this wild bunch. I got a call from one of his teachers today and he’s been cutting class, missing taking tests, goofing off.” Spike followed Xander’s angry stride to the bedroom, shaking his head as he realised his idea of a little late night delight were flying out of the window even though Heath was staying over at Aunty Buffy’s that evening.

“Xander, you do realise the kid has gay parents, one of whom is a vampire and the other is a one-eyed carpenter who works with the Slayer Army? The chances that he’s gonna be normal are slim to none. Add to which, he’s half Zebatanthon and going through puberty. We’re bloody lucky he goes to school at all—by rights, he should be damn near living in the bathroom with his dick stuck in his hand or spying on the slayers in the showers!”

“Well, about that—” Spike tried very hard to smother his laughter as it was obvious Xander was upset. He stripped off his black T-shirt before bouncing onto the bed next to Xander.

“Don’t tell me—really? That’s my boy!” That slipped out and he knew he was going to regret it but—what a lad!

“You’re proud of him? God, why am I even _trying_ to talk to you about it—of course you think it’s cool.”

“I didn’t say I thought it was cool, don’t be putting words in my mouth! I just think we can hardly expect him to be an A-plus student when you barely got through school what with spending most of your evenings patrolling cemeteries. An’ I’m not exactly the poster-child for normality. He’s spent a big chunk of his life living on his wits on the streets—school’s gonna be an adjustment. And think about it, his grand-dad’s a brooding bastard with a soul—let’s be honest, we’re lucky Heath’s not a serial killer already.” Stroking up and down Xander’s leg, Spike wondered just how he could take Xander’s mind off of his parental responsibilities. He had really had his sights set on making Xander scream, something that he didn’t get to do very often as Xander didn’t want to traumatise Heath. Traumatise the little bastard Spike’s shiny, white arse—he would lay a pack of kittens on a bet that Heath was more than likely the leader of his little gang of miscreants rather than being led astray by them, but it would break Xander’s heart if he told him. Six months of trying to be the best Daddy he could be and Xander still hadn’t figured out that their Heath was a survivor—whether it be living in crypts or making himself alpha of his little pack in school.

When Xander didn’t object, Spike wormed his fingers beneath the hem of Xander’s t-shirt, stroking the warm flesh of his stomach and gently tugging the little whorls of hair that circled his belly button. He could actually _feel_ Xander starting to relax, sinking down in the bed a little and moving closer to Spike. Maybe he would get to test out the springs on their new bed after all. He shifted so that he could nuzzle Xander’s neck, inhaling the delicious aromas that always enveloped his lover at the end of the day: sweat, leftover cologne, Xander...

“Spike—do you think.....mm-mm, that’s nice....”

“Do I think what love? Lean down a bit so I can reach that little spot behind your ear.” Spike let out a small growl when Xander happily did as requested, giving the area a small lick before nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. He loved just how much Xander trusted him—it gave him a wicked thrill every time he laid his teeth against Xander’s neck and was rewarded with not even a flinch. He lost himself in re-learning all of the areas on Xander’s neck that made his lover give little moans and groans of encouragement, losing track of the conversation completely. He heard Xander murmur something close to his ear and nodded his encouragement as he worked the neckline of Xander’s t-shirt lower and lower until there was a tearing sound and he had access to yet more tanned, warm flesh.

“Really? Oh Spike, thank you!! I told Willow you’d step up!” Pulling back from the resounding kiss Xander was trying to lay on his mouth, Spike looked down into his lover’s face, instantly suspicious upon seeing that incandescent smile.

“Xander, what did I just agree to?”

“That you’d talk to Heath. Tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Well, yeah. Better to strike while the iron’s hot and all that, right?” Xander looked so hopeful, his hazel eyes wide and appealing that Spike found himself up, dressed and heading towards the front door before he could really even think. “I’ll try to stay awake for when you come back—maybe you could take Heath out on patrol with you? He really loves that. And he’ll listen to you far better than he listens to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds like a plan.”

“Love you Spike. You’re the best Pop in the world.” A light kiss on the lips and Spike was facing his own front door, his brow furrowed in confusion. He really couldn’t understand how he had found himself in this position but he knew just who was going to get the rough end of his tongue. Rolling a cigarette more from habit than because he wanted to smoke it, he stomped out of the apartment building and headed towards the Slayer’s house. That bloody little pup was going to get it with both barrels for messing with Spike’s planned night of debauchery and no mistake, and then he was going home. Xander bloody well better be awake as well because Spike wanted his ‛payment’ for allowing himself to be manipulated. Bloody families!


End file.
